Well Now
by scooter13
Summary: Garrus has always enjoyed friendly competition.  SLASH, and very very M.  Response to MassKink


This is a response to a MassKink meme:

_Garrus/Thane. Mutual respect and admiration between sniperbros becomes something more. Awkward!Garrus, please. _Hope you enjoy! As always, I own nothing although it would be awesome if I did.

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Garrus slipped down into the cargo hold, still not understanding why Krios wanted to keep this between them, but shrugs it off as another odd facet of the assassin. His rifle is clutched in one taloned hand, the other he uses to steady himself in the darkened room. He curses the drell's insistence that they keep this fair, using only their naturally attuned eyesight to spot and take down the targets and so had demanded that Garrus leave his visor in his room. Garrus thought this just a little unfair considering Krios had probably been in more situations like this one, and so his night vision would be faster and sharper than Garrus' own.

But Garrus is a turian, and when someone offers up a challenge a turian never tries to make it easier for himself. He still curses loudly when his leg bashes against a crate, wishing he'd chosen to wear his armor as he reaches down to rub at the offended area.

"Having difficulties?" a deep, even voice croaks out from the darkness, and even though he should have expected it, Garrus still drops into a combat stance, his sniper rifle up and aimed in the direction the voice had come from. His scope illuminated some objects in the darkness and Garrus trained it around the room, trying to catch a glint of the drell's scales.

He's taken off-guard when a voice rasps by his ear, and he turns quickly. "Shall we set the targets?" And Garrus is surprised that he can see so much of the drell, Krios having taken off his customary leathers and is padding around in Cerberus work-out gear of a tank top and loose trousers. Garrus himself is wearing something similar, but had to settle for shorts because the pants would have caught and ripped on his spurs.

Garrus nods and Thane motions him to the far end of the room. He sees crates set up and turns to look behind him where the targets have been set up near the door. The light that seeps from the lock display highlights them just enough for Garrus to make them out, and he's grateful to the drell, but also a little suspicious.

"I thought we were shooting in the dark," he rumbles as he begins to move toward the crates that are set up at the far end, slipping into the shadows beside Krios. The assassin tilts his head and Garrus is sure he hears faint amusement running underneath the flat rumble when he replies. "If we were to merely shoot in the dark without being sure of our targets, it is more than likely we will get ourselves and others unintentionally wounded or killed."

Garrus waves a taloned hand as he sets up behind a crate. "Yeah," he replies, "but I thought we were going to test each other's abilities in no light." There is silence for a moment, the drell's breathing only slightly rough as he continuously fights against the disease eating away at his lungs. When he speaks, Garrus definitely hears the amusement this time. "You want us to shoot blind?" The turian just rumbles and cradles the stock of his rifle in the crook of his elbow, laying his cheek on one bony shoulder as he lines up the first target.

"It'd be a challenge," he shoots back, relaxing his grip and tracing his gaze to the assassin beside him. Krios is staring at him, large eyes blending into the darkness, giving his face the creepy empty look of a green skull. Finally he answers and Garrus turns back to his rifle. "Should we retreat further into the hold? The light is much dimmer there." Garrus sights down at the targets, knows it won't matter because they're still highlighted by the red lock status so he shakes his head. "Nah," he says, shifting to a more comfortable position when he hears the drell settle beside him, "might as well get this over with." His only answer is a low rumble and then the targets are lowered and the small ping goes off, indicating the target field is open and to stay clear.

They have hollow point bullets with different dyes loaded into their rifles and the point of the contest is to see who shoots more and where.

Garrus gets the first target, the bright yellow of his dye staining the area of the forehead, perfectly in the middle of the generic target head. There is a rumble of displeasure from beside him and before Garrus can purr his own triumph, two more targets are up and Thane has already shot one, and as Garrus lines up his own shot, his victory is stolen a half moment after he pulls the trigger, Thane's own red dye staining the area of the heart on both mannequins, Garrus' yellow impacting just after and under. Cursing, Garrus hunkers down, adjusting and shooting when another target pops up; this time it is his dye that splats against the targets head first, Thane's just a moment after, almost exactly on top of the bright yellow dye.

This continues for the better part of a half hour, adjusting and scoping, cursing and grinning as they continuously attempt to out-do the other. When the ping goes off again, this time followed by a loud buzz, all the targets are raised up to display the final tally. Garrus is sighting down his scope, not bothering to get up, counting them out and grins when he realizes that he's won by two. He is about to turn to the drell to gloat when he feels cool fingers ghost over his fringe, barely touching and if it hadn't been for a light squeeze at the end of one of the spikes Garrus would have thought it was a random air current.

Yelping, because that's a really intimate thing to do to a turian, Garrus tries to jump backwards, but he's still hunched over and his rifle is heavy in his arms, so he instead topples back ward, landing hard on his ass. Snapping his attention to the other man, Garrus' mandibles twitch in irritation, drawing close to his face when he just barely makes out the small smile curling at the full lips.

"What the fuck was that?" he snarls out, irritation and embarrassment making his anger hot and hard. And when the drell chuckles, a low rolling baritone that seems to ghost over Garrus' skin, he's mortified when something else starts getting hot and hard.

Krios moves, his loose trouser legs ghosting against each other with near silent wisps, and Garrus finds himself bringing his rifle up and pointing it at the assassin. Because he had forgotten that Thane Krios was the best assassin the universe had to offer and now that he's remembered he can't help but wonder if this was all an act and the drell is going to turn on them for the credits. But Krios stops and tilts his head, a low rumble that would have been inaudible to a human beginning in his chest, a deep purr that Garrus recognizes is supposed to be soothing but only serves to remind him that he has an uncomfortable hard on.

"What the _fuck _was _that_?" he demands again, sniper rifle still ready. When the purring stops Krios is still staring at him and Garrus wishes they had more light because he can't tell what the drell is thinking. Could never tell before, but he's hoping his heightened awareness will give him something to work with. The answer, when it comes, is unexpected and makes Garrus lower his weapon just a little.

"Foreplay." It's so succinct and delivered in the same even tone that Krios always keeps that Garrus actually contemplates believing him for a moment, but quickly pushes that thought aside. He keeps his gun lowered, though, because if Krios had wanted to kill him Garrus has no doubt there'd be any way to stop him. So instead he stares at the drell who stares impassively back, his shoulders straight, hands clasped behind his back in the familiar pose of readiness and respect.

"Uh. Huh. Okay. That-that's unexpected." Krios chuckles again, the deep sound shooting straight to Garrus' cock, and he has a moment to realize he's only in his skivvies and hopes to every Spirit out there that the dark and his bony anatomy hide the obvious lump. Just to be sure, though, he tries to draw his legs up as casually as he can. He's looking down, embarrassed and trying to keep all the naughty and naked thoughts out of his head, so jerks in surprise when Krios' voice is right in front of him.

"I merely thought," the assassin begins, his head tilted to the side, "that we might test our skills in every…faculty." So close, Garrus can make out more of him and sees that same impassive mask that he sees every day, but when Krios' fingers reach down and squeeze the obvious bulge, Garrus cries out and a small smile quirks the drell's lips. "Bested as I was in the shooting range, I suggest we continue our little contest," at this he squeezes again and Garrus groans, "with a small hand-to-hand session."

Garrus stares at Krios, his mandibles flared, fringe starting to become engorged and he knows he should be disgusted and backing away because this man kills people for money and he's a _man_. But he's also Thane Krios, revered assassin, famous killer and one of the few people to actually impress Garrus with his ability.

Krios sits there, head cocked, the ridges on his neck gently engorged as he awaits his answer and Garrus doesn't know what to say. So he blurts out the first thing he can think of. "Test my reach and your flexibility?" And when the drell begins to chuckle, the hand moving again, Garrus wants to groan and run away because given the circumstances that is such a wrong thing to say, but Krios hasn't stopped, so Garrus releases his death grip on his rifle. Raising one taloned hand, Garrus drags the tip of one claw down the ribbing of Krios' throat, and the reaction is so powerful and immediate that Garrus knows he has to go through with this.

The drell groans, his throat inflating just a bit more, the sure hand on Garrus cock spasming just the tiniest bit as pleasure floods the drell's body. Emboldened, Garrus leans forward, placing his rifle on a crate beside them and nuzzles at the soft red flesh, his mandibles twitching and brushing the folds gently. Krios groans again, this time deeper and louder, his other hand coming up to steady himself on Garrus shoulder. Opening his mouth, Garrus pushes his pointed, slightly barbed tongue against the flesh, adding more sensation and Krios cries out again, his grip near painful as the turian teases him.

"I take your actions," the drell manages to gasp out, "as acquiescence?" Garrus chuckles against the skin, his turn to moan when the cool hand dips beneath the elastic band of his shorts and brushes the skin just above his penis. Instead of answering, he nips the skin and moves up to the ridges flaring out and over the drell's ears, licking his way. He has no lips, knows that Krios knows this, but when the ridges and crest give way to soft scales, Garrus suddenly feels anxious because he doesn't know what to do.

Krios takes the initiative, then, and turns his head, licking the turian's mandibles before meeting his harder mouth with soft lips. Garrus isn't quite sure what to do, but Krios hums and Garrus can feel the vibrations in the drell's chest when a soft tongue presses against his mouth. Hesitantly, he opens his mouth and slips his own tongue out, caressing the odd bisected tongue with his own. Krios groans, the vibrations picking up speed and intensity and Garrus isn't quite sure how, but he's on his back, carapace preventing him from being laid out flat, the drell straddling his thin waist and jutting hips.

They both groan when the new position allows their erection to finally come in contact, and Garrus instinctively reaches up and grasps the assassin's narrow hips, holding the drell still as Garrus grinds up into him, moaning. Krios pants and slips his hand down, rubbing first his own erection through the loose trousers before placing his palm flat against Garrus' and presses and strokes just so.

With something that Garrus could only call instinct, the turian is growling and rolling them over, the assassin beneath him now and they're both purring and growling and a part of Garrus is turned on just by how similar the sounds their arousal are. Krios reaches up and strokes the engorged fringe again, bucking his hips up against Garrus'. The turian groans again and nips at the sensitive flesh of Krios' neck before raising one talon and slicing the tight shirt down the middle, not giving a fuck that the drell had nothing else to wear out of there. The tight fabric falls aside as the elastic bunches and contracts, revealing the sculpted muscles and Garrus was suddenly nervous again, because he's never done this, never even thought about this and wonders what the hell he's doing now.

Krios is holding still under him, his breath ragged and rough. His expression is open for once, and Garrus finds himself caught at the thought that the normally impassive and cool assassin is panting underneath him, lips parted and eye ridges pulled forward and down in an unmistakeable expression of lust. Finding his mouth dry, Garrus swallows, can't speak and swallows again. "Uh, ha ha," he chuckles nervously, leaning up and back. "I'm, um, not really-you know there's-not…huh. This," he says, gesturing at the assassin's sprawling form, not meeting his hot gaze, "this is kind of, uh,new, and not really covered in basic." And now he's babbling, but Garrus doesn't know how to stop. Krios is leaning up now, his muscles flexing as he leans on his elbows and watches the turian with some amusement.

"So if there's-um, if I hurt you, you need to say, because it's kind of dark and, uh, I don't-haven't done this and don't know what-shit, Krios, throw me a line here." He's staring at the drell, his taloned hands resting on the cloth covered thighs and he's twitching, trying to decide if he wants to run or stay. One long fingered hand takes away his choice, however, when his shirt is being tugged up. Swallowing, Garrus grasps the hem and pulls it up and over his head, embarrassed when it catches on his fringe for a moment and now he really wants to run because this is mortifying.

His stomach muscles jump underneath the touch of the four fingered hand and Krios finally speaks, his voice measured and calm with just enough inflection that Garrus knows he's being comforted. "If this is too much for you, my friend, we need not continue this." The fingers never stop their soothing, the voice pitched perfectly to be at once inviting and sympathetic, but Garrus knows that if he stops now, whatever is happening will be broken and he doesn't know if he wants it to continue, but knows he doesn't want it to stop.

So he leans down, mindful of his chest spur and gently nuzzles at the soft skin and hard muscles on the drell's chest. Thinks he should go slow, or something, but they're both killers and Krios had mentioned the contest, so Garrus nips at the skin as his hands roughly grasp the toned thighs and jerks the other man closer, grinding down into him. Krios gasps and the hand at Garrus' waist curls, the nails unconsciously scratching skin and Garrus growls, humping the body beneath him. The drell groans deep and low and now both hands are at his fringe, caressing. Garrus is purring and growling, but yelps suddenly when the cool hands grasp his spikes and pull his head back painfully.

Using the advantage, the drell pushes one knee into the turian's side, kicking him over and onto his back again. Garrus is only momentarily surprised, but recovers quickly and instead of staying on his back, continues to roll and pushes himself up.

Krios regards him with lust and amusement, his eyes dark in his face and he shrugs off the remainder of his shirt, the material sliding down his body and pooling with a whisper at his bare feet. The stripes that criss-cross his body are amazing, and Garrus can't help but think that it looks like his entire body is tattooed, the stripes blending in with the surrounding dark and his body looks oddly segmented. The drell crouches low, readying himself as Garrus begins to side step, starting a small circle, his own hands up.

Krios charges first, fast and hard and Garrus is mildly surprised that he's surprised, because he's seen the assassin fight before, had always admired his style and speed, but had never realize just how fast he was until the fist crashed into the side of his face. But Krios was relying on speed, so his hits, while precise, lacked full power as he danced around the turian. Garrus grinned, lunging and lashing as best he could.

He did not have Krios' speed, but he had more strength and reach and his armoured skin easily soaked up the majority of the drell's hits, leaving Garrus clear. His first successful contact is with the side of the drell's head, one large fist knocking into the crest as Krios tried to dodge. The drell is stunned momentarily and Garrus takes that moment to lash out with a side kick. Krios is fast, however, and spins out of the way, landing a solid blow to Garrus' abdomen, momentarily winding the turian, but he still manages to duck a follow up blow and lashes out at the assassin's legs.

Krios dances out of the way and they regard each other before circling again. This time it is Garrus who charges and the assassin is ready, side stepping the fist aimed at his chest. Before Garrus can recover, however, Krios has captured his arm and twisted it painfully, pushing out and down, forcing the turian to his knees. Garrus doesn't drop, though, lashing out at Krios' unprotected side with one large fist, winding the assassin, and Garrus takes the opportunity, breaking the hold and grasping the drell with both arms, winding around his abdomen and toppling him into the floor. He's sitting above the assassin, both of Krios' forearms caught in Garrus' grip.

When the drell begins to struggle, Garrus smirks, knowing his strength is greater and holds on, leaning down to brush his mandibles against the back of Krios' neck. Krios, however, bucks his hips up and back, pushing his ass against Garrus' erection and the turian groans, head falling forward in surprise, his grip loosening. Krios doesn't try to get away, however, just pushing up against the hot erection straining the fabric of the shorts. Garrus release the drells' arms and grasps the material of the loose trousers, mindful of his claws as he pulls the material down slim hips. Krios moans when his erection finally slips free, pushing up onto his hands and knees, legs parting. Garrus stares at the display, because it's exactly how a turian female would present herself and doesn't know if the drell knows this, but is so turned on he's not sure he cares.

Shucking his shorts, Garrus suddenly stops and cocks his head, worried and embarrassed because they've gotten this far and he's not sure what to do and too embarrassed to mention this. The drell comes to his rescue, however, when he turns and raises himself to his knees. His full lips quirk when he sees the turian's erection, and Garrus himself is dry mouthed because he's not sure what to do, not sure what is normal but knows that Krios' cock is pretty damned good-looking.

Not as long as his own, it's still covered with the same ridges that cover the drell's neck, thick black stripes surrounding the base and bisecting into smaller stripes on the inside of Krios' thighs. The drell purrs, reaching down and strokes himself, one long fingered hand stroking his erection while the other begins to massage his testicles. Garrus watches the display, the low light only making the performance all that much more erotic. Reaching down, he fingers and strokes his own erection, playing with the engorged head and pushing on the pulsing ridges, watching the drell pleasure himself.

They're both on their knees, staring at each other and Garrus wonders if they're doing this right, doesn't care because he can hear the rumbles and purrs the drell is making, can smell the strong musk and spice and just needs to come.

They're both panting hard now, Garrus resting back, trying to keep his eyes open but slowly losing as his orgasm rushes up to him. Doesn't hear the slight shift as the drell lowers himself, just jerks in surprise when a hot tongue is suddenly on his cock. Looking down, large black eyes stare up at him, full lips enveloping the head of his cock as that tongue keeps flickering out over his erection. He can't last, knows this and is embarrassed but he's so close that he can't stop it.

Reaching down, he runs one talon along the flares of Krios' ridge as the drell swallows more of him down. When he gets to the engorged red ridges, Krios groans and with his cock halfway in Krios' mouth, Garrus feels it travel down the length of him to that bundle of pulsing heat in his belly and he's suddenly roaring as he comes, his talons grasping the tight heat around him, cool hands gently prying his hands off the drell's head as he feels the tight throat muscles work around his softening cock.

He's so limp and boneless, prying his eyes open and staring down at the smooth head in wonder. Krios pulls back, licking the tip of the limp cock even as it began to retreat back into its protective sheath. Garrus is embarrassed, suddenly aware of the anatomical differences, but Krios doesn't seem to care, licking his lips as he leans back. His erection gleams in the low light and Garrus is nervous again, not knowing what he can do and feeling like he needs to explain his inaction.

"Um, what-that was really, really good and I can't-not with. Uh, but if-if you need…help," and he trails off because it sounds really stupid and he doesn't know why he's unsure, but he wants to make the drell feel good and doesn't know how because he's all hard skin and sharp teeth. The drell just smiles and begins to stroke himself again, pushing the turian back until Garrus is forced to lay down. Swallowing, Garrus watches as best he can as Krios strokes himself, gathering his precum and smearing his fingers. Garrus swallows, watching the hand move from the drell's cock towards himself, wondering what is happening and so fascinated he barely notices the touch until a gentle finger is pushing inside.

Garrus yelped at the invasion, actually yelped, something high pitched and surprised and thoroughly embarrassing. He scooted backward, his head impacting a crate behind him painfully and he groaned. Clutching his head, he jerks at the feel of cool fingers on his cheek and fringe.

"What the fuck was that?" he demanded, such a familiar phrase that if he could, he would've laughed. But he doesn't, just staring at the drell who is staring impassively back, the low comforting purr returning.

"I'm sorry," Krios says, tilting his head, "I should have warned you."

Garrus nods vigorously, latching onto his anger again. "Yeah, maybe a little. What the fuck was that?" And now Krios is smiling again, a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and Garrus doesn't want to think about why that tugs so badly. "I was preparing you," the drell explains calmly, his tone once again measured and even. Garrus frowns, his mandibles drawn in, twitching. "Preparing? For what?" At this, the drell cocks his head, a small twitch of his eye ridge the only indication that he's surprised. "Do you not have homosexuality in your culture?" Krios questions lightly, and Garrus knows he knows the answer, doesn't know why he asks, but then, just by being forced to think about it, it suddenly makes sense.

And now he's really embarrassed, because he had heard of things, and it should have made sense immediately but he hadn't expected to be the one on bottom. "Ah," he says instead, mandibles fluttering in embarrassment, "right. That. Uh, hmm, sorry." The drell begins to stand, turning to their discarded clothing and Garrus is afraid he's misunderstood. Because even though it's weird and new, just thinking about it makes Garrus shiver and he wants to know if he can do this.

"Wait," he calls, still sitting against the crate, and now Krios has stopped, pants in hand, watching him impassively.

"We do not have to continue," and there is no censure in the deep voice, but Garrus winces anyway because it seems really selfless of the drell to get him off with a mind-blowing blowjob and understand that he might not be able to reciprocate. But the turian shakes his head and stands, knowing the mood has been broken when the drell turns away and begins to silently put his clothing on.

Even though Garrus is taller by about a foot, he suddenly feels the age difference and feels very young and small.

"I-that is, I do, but it's…" and he doesn't know how to continue because he sounds like a scared virgin and that pisses him off because he's survived and needs to feel that. So he resolves to find that moment again and strides forward, the drell still relaxed, but Garrus can see the muscles tense in the low light.

Reaching out, he runs one talon roughly down the ridges, drawing a groan from the assassin and pushes his mouth against soft lips that part immediately for him, bisected tongue finding his own barbed one and Garrus is plundering the hot mouth. He can feel the erection, back and hot pressing against his thigh. He pushes at the material, but Krios smiles, his lips turning up only slightly and he pushes the turian back. Garrus gets the hint and resumes his place on the floor, legs now spread and it feels really awkward to do that consciously.

But the drell is naked again, stepping out of the loose pants. His fingers are in his mouth this time, and when he kneels down and leans forward, Garrus tries not to think too much about what is going to happen.

When a slick finger probes at his ass and pushes in, Garrus is distracted by the way Krios is sucking on the tip of his mandible.

When a second finger joins, Krios is sucking on the skin of his waist, nipping slightly.

And when Krios is easing in his joined fingers beside the other two, Garrus is groaning at the sensation of a hot mouth once again enveloping his hard and exposed cock.

But it's only when those fingers curl and something inside Garrus explodes that the turian realizes that maybe this won't be so bad. The fingers are gently removed and the drell nips his way up the turian's body, pressing a gentle kiss on the hard mouth before reaching down and lining himself up with the loosened entrance.

It should have hurt, but Krios' other hand is stroking his fringe expertly, and all he feels is a dull stretching behind the burst of pleasure. The drell is breathing heavily, and Garrus glances at him, groaning when another inch of the hot, ribbed cock is pushed into him. Krios balances himself on one hand as he looks down at the turian and Garrus moans at another artful manipulation of his fringe.

"Touch yourself," the deep voice rumbles, and Garrus swears he can feel the vibrations in the cock burying itself in his ass. He reaches down with one taloned hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking and pulling, and then the body above him groans and stiffens as they're finally pressed hip to hip, the drell's cock buried completely.

Garrus moans when the hot length retreats from his body, leaving him empty and wanting, stroking his cock faster. He stops and cries out, his mandibles slack with pleasure when Thane thrusts back in, angling just right and finding that perfect bundle of nerves that has the heat building in his abdomen again.

Garrus resumes stroking himself, head thrown back in pleasure as the hot cock brushes against that bundle every time, such a contrast to the cool hand stroking the soft skin of his neck and fringe, encouraging another orgasm. He feels himself tighten, know he's so close and Thane groans loudly as he sits up, his fingers leaving Garrus' fringe and the turian growls and whines, bucking into the hips meeting his again and again.

Strong cool hands grasp his hips and now Thane is hammering into him, his eyes open and staring down at the turian arching underneath him until finally, finally Garrus comes again, his cock pumping cum onto his stomach and abdomen. Thane cries out as the body below him shudders and contracts and he's pumping his own cum into Garrus, the warmth seeping through the turian's body and he's limp again, sighing and letting his arms fall to the side. Thane pulls out gently, stroking the inside of the slim thighs when the younger man groans at the loss.

The drell settles himself down beside Garrus, his body straight, hands laced together and laying on his chest. But he is smiling and when Garrus turns his head to look at him, Thane lays his forehead against the turian's. "So," he says quietly, his voice even and deep but holding a new kind of exhaustion underneath the rumble, "shall we call it a draw?" Garrus thinks about it, then nods his head. "Sure," he rumbles, disentangling himself and sitting up, staring down at the drell who stares impassively back.

"But I think we'll need a tie breaker."

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Never wrote slash before, hope it works! ;P


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